


Friendship

by Alasse_Irena



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, primary school AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3962995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alasse_Irena/pseuds/Alasse_Irena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras really likes Combeferre - like, a lot - and when you're a child in the '90s, there's really only one way to properly express your friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> I am not usually one for kidfic, or modern AUs, but I was having a conversation the other day with some friends, and well...this came out of it.

There were a lot of things Enjolras liked about Combeferre.

He liked the way Combeferre took off his glasses when he wanted to tell you something important, because after all, no-one’s going to believe that _dinosaurs had feathers_ if you don’t look them directly in the eye to say it.

He liked the way Combeferre would listen to people arguing, and then make the same disappointed little frown at both sides and say, _Yeah, but you’re both wrong_.

He liked the fact that Combeferre never made fun of him for being clumsy, or for having hair like a girl, or for interrupting the movie to ask questions about whether Orcs had parents and best friends and, like, traditional Orcish folk songs.

He liked knowing that if Combeferre had been the sort of person who ended up choosing teams for lunchtime football games, he would have always picked Enjolras first; and even better, he liked knowing that if he and Combeferre were on a team together, they would win.

He liked that sometimes he came to school and Combeferre said, _Do you wanna know how to write Viking runes?_ , and sometimes Combeferre said, _Can I try and hypnotise you, Enjolras? I won’t make you do anything embarrassing, pinky promise!_ and sometimes Combeferre said, _You’re right, I don’t think the teachers or the school board ever actually listen to what the student reps say._

Mostly, he liked the fact that Combeferre never said anything like _that’s boring_ , or _shut up Enjolras_ , or _why are you always reading?_ because if anyone was reading, then Combeferre wanted to know about it, and if anyone was talking, then Combeferre had something to say, and if anyone was bored - well, how could you be bored around Combeferre?

There was one thing Enjolras didn’t like about Combeferre, and it was this: when you like someone so much that you think they probably would have been your brother if your parents had been considerate enough to have twins, and you want every day of the week to be Monday so that you have a whole five days of lunchtimes together and whispered conversations during maths and heated arguments with teachers about whether improving your handwriting should really be more important than figuring out how ant society works in front of you, and you can’t remember any more how you ever hated coming to school, what are you meant to _do_?

He didn’t feel like sharing his sandwiches really got the message across, or giving Combeferre the dead moth he found underneath the light on the verandah (it had green patterns on its wings). The card he’d made for Combeferre’s birthday hadn’t done it either, because Enjolras was so rubbish at drawing that he’d had to explain - _It’s you and me, with swords, and we’re going to go and run the country better_ \- and then Combeferre had said, _I don’t think the Prime Minister is s’posed to have a sword, Enjolras. That’s kind of the point._

***

This situation left Enjolras at the local library, where he spent an afternoon in the non-fiction section scouring the 700s. He had an idea, and like all good ideas, it needed some preparation.

“Excuse me?”

The librarian stopped puzzling over the new computerised borrowing system to peer down at Enjolras. She smiled. “How can I help you?”

“I need this one.” He held out a large book titled  _101 Craft Projects for Girls_.

She didn’t say anything, but probably only because Enjolras had a special face for people who looked like they were about to use the words _girl_ or _boy_  along with  _not appropriate_.

***

It took him seven days.

To be fair, this included the part where he couldn’t decide what Combeferre’s favourite colours were (he settled on red, white and blue, in the end - blue, because that was Combeferre’s favourite colour, red, which was his own favourite, and white, because white was on sale when he went to buy thread, and he only had two dollars in his pocket), and the several separate occasions where he realised halfway through that he’d made a mistake at the start and had to unravel it and start again.

He had to admit that making friendship bracelets was more difficult than he’d expected. Considering that he hadn’t yet managed to learn to plait his hair, this shouldn’t really have come as a surprise. During the week, his mother asked him if he was making it for a girl ( _No!_ ), his teacher asked him why he hadn’t done his homework more than once ( _I’ve got other things to do_ ), and Combeferre asked him what the big secret was ( _What big secret? I didn’t say anything!_ ). But he never tried to work on the bracelet at school, so his secret was safe where it mattered.

***

“Combeferre?”

“Yes?”

Enjolras wasn’t nervous. This couldn’t be any worse than his birthday card.

“I made you a present. I know you didn’t like my birthday card--”

“What?” Combeferre didn’t usually interrupt people.

“So I made you a present.”

“What?” Combeferre took off his glasses. “It was the best birthday card I’ve ever got. I mean, other than if you’d written it in hieroglyphics, maybe - but it was awesome!”

Enjolras blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. I put it on my wall. I’m going to keep it forever.”

Enjolras looked down at the friendship bracelet in his hands. “Oh. I guess you...Do you still want my present? I made it for you.”

Combeferre offered his wrist.

Enjolras still wasn’t sure if Combeferre properly understood what Enjolras was trying to say, but he tied the bracelet for him, and hoped that maybe combined with the card and the sandwiches, he’d work it out.


End file.
